


Wish

by glassgoblin



Series: Random Rogues [55]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassgoblin/pseuds/glassgoblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing the wishing game while waiting for their next assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish

There were times when he thought that their wishing game was a little like torture; being deprived of so many comforts led to wishing that they had some of them and sharing those wishes led to sharing stories about what those things were actually like or why they were missed. The lack of creature comforts was not a tipping point for any of them, though they did look forward to the day where they had steady pay of some sort, leave to do something other than missions and routine duties, and a stable place to call home.

“I wish I were home in the middle of spring, when everything smells of little growing things and there are soft baby animals to care for on the farm.” Wes leaned back, his head cushioned by his hands.

“I always forget that you and Luke both grew up on farms; very different farms, but still, farm boys.” Across their room, Hobbie rolled onto his side, looking at Wes for a few minutes. “What was it like, growing up on a farm?”

Wes laughed, “You can probably imagine it, if you tried. Lots of chores. I bet that was the same for Luke too, though you’re right about the differences. I had to make sure the animals were all fed and given fresh water before dawn, their stalls cleaned out, their grooming done. We had some milking animals and I got to deal with that too, though my sister was assigned the egg gathering chores.” He sat up on his bunk. “It wasn’t so bad, but I knew I didn’t really belong and I definitely didn’t want to be a farmer when I grew up.”

“I don’t know, I can picture you as a farmer some days. Some pretty young woman as your wife, a bunch of kids, telling stories over dinner.” Hobbie shrugged.

“It wouldn’t have been the worst fate, but I belong here. Even if we are half starved, the environmental controls are on the brink of collapse, yet again, and we get to die of boredom waiting for the next batch of orders. And it is your turn.”

Hobbie nodded, sliding a hand under his pillow and closing his eyes for a moment, “I wish I had a big slice of sweet cake, just like my mother baked for my last life day at home.” He opened his eyes again, and sighed. “I know we get things like ryshcate because there are so many Corellians around and that is one of their traditional celebration cakes, but it doesn’t seem like real cake to me. Too much alcohol in it. My mother made sweet cakes that were light, airy really, and had a nutty frosting. I’d love something like that instead of all of the heavy rations we have; dried, vacuum-sealed, bland or too spicy. Blech.”

“That would be nice. I haven’t had anything that tastes like home for ages it seems. We need to find one of the smugglers that brings in supplies and see if we can get a little side action going.”

Hobbie snorted, “Because they are so reasonable with their prices and we are paid so very well? I think I’ll wait for the next base and hope it has some kind of food market or decent cafes.”

“Are you being optimistic? My heart might freeze if you are.” Wes laughed as Hobbie gave him a dirty look. “My turn? I wish . . . “


End file.
